


This Unscripted

by MonetJest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-23 19:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20345533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonetJest/pseuds/MonetJest
Summary: In a different world Sam doesn't return to the hunting life, Castiel goes by a different name and identity, and Dean has left John and pursues a completely different life. In 'This Unscripted' i'll be creating a different endgame.JOIN THE HUNTSIDE-NOTE: I'm really excited to share a brand new way to look at the top hit show 'Supernatural', this story will be a way to explore all paths that could've been or would've been. Some chapters and characters may be closely similar to the show but I will be making this my own while still using the show as a conduit. Excluding the first chapter, I'll be researching and creating all possible monster hunts in coming chapters.--> Main POV will be Dean but bonus chapters includes Sam's POV.-->Editor: Stella Bushey





	1. Chapter 1

��

I slink down onto the tan leather seat. The smell of gasoline and gunpowder wafts into my nose, which I quickly crinkle it in dissatisfaction.

“You know, it’s easy to clean a car. Maybe you should give it a try sometime, these seats are starting smell like that crusty old hunter, Sal, from yesterday.”

“What are you talking about? This Impala smells just fine-- Sal could never be used as comparison. Dean, when have you ever complained about the Impala?” He looks straight at me in amusement, and I give him a sly smile in return.

“Whatever you say.”

“Enough with the half-baked jokes, and let’s get to work. We’ve retracked the vamp’s nest from the other night, and it’s a couple miles from here. Did you interview the man that got away, like I told you to?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good.” My dad shuffles around in the case file for a moment, and a look of stern contempt shadows his face. “How many of those bastards did the guy say there were?”

“About 6 of them came and went as he was tied up in the basement. He said that the vamps were using him as some sort of blood bag, only feeding on him when absolutely necessary. That’s why he survived so long before we found him the other night. The vamps had killed his girlfriend a few nights before we were finally able to track down the nest, and it was pure luck that we got out of there alive.”

“It doesn’t matter, we still have the issue as to how we’re going to annihilate them quick and clean, this should be routine by this point, so I think tonight is as good as any to wipe’em out.” I looked at him in a moment of disbelief, was he crazy? We only know of six blood -suckers but they’re could be more than that, in no way are we prepared to massacre a nest on our own.

“Dad I don’t think that’s a good idea, we’re not prepared I think we should wait another night or two maybe get another hunter to come along; I bet Sal would be more than willing.”

“No.” John sighed.

“Come on Dad let’s do this right, I mean we don’t know how many of those vamps are really there in that house it could be more than six. All I’m saying is that we should plan some more before going in guns blazing.”

“No Dean, we’re doing this tonight and you should know better than to doubt anything I say, I’ve been doing this a long time.” His dad was staring straight at me with a look that I was all too familiar with, the conversation was over and that was that.

“Okay.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, now look at this.” He hands over a detailed map, with colored descriptors all around what looks to be a building. “This is the house, I tried to remember every inch while we were in there but it was dark as hell so this is all I could come up with, now I’m thinking I could head towards the front.” He taps the area of the paper where it says ‘front door’ on the corner of the page. “Then I’m thinking while I get the suckers from that side you can sneak around the back and pull the stragglers out, nip’em right in the bud and call it a night.” It was an okay plan but there seemed to be a lot of room for error.

“This doesn’t seem fool proof I still think we should get Sal on the case; you can never be too careful with a vamp’s nest.”

“Dean.” His dad grabbed the map out of his hands. “We’ll be fine, if one of us gets into any kind of trouble we’ve got each other’s backs we don’t need Sal, I thought we already covered this. The nest needs to be taken care of and we as a team are fully capable. Do you understand?” I looked at him with an unsound eye, but nothing could change his mind and it was my duty to follow his lead especially on cases like these, it was not my place to doubt my father.

“Crystal clear. When should we head to the nest?” His dad looked back down at the map then to his leather strapped watch that his mother had gifted him back when she was still alive, it was something that never left my dad’s side.

“We should be good to go around dusk. I say we head into the diner and get some grub before then.”

“What can I get you fellas”. I look at her, already sure that the pecan pie would be one of wonders.

“I’ll take one slice of your pecan pie.” She gives me a kind look and quickly writes down my request, out of curiosity I look at her name tag: _Layla. _It’s a beautiful name.

“Just a cheese omelet and some coffee if you would.” His dad speaks gruffly and hands Layla the menu back, I follow suit.

“Thank you, Layla.” She gives me a light smile that touches to her eyes, her blonde hair framing her doe features nicely.

“You’re welcome.” She turns and walks down the aisle to the booth on the far end she smiles and continues to mark down more orders. I turn my attention back to my dad.

“Watch yourself Dean, remember what we’ve come here to do.”

“Yes, I know.” I Have to keep my mind on the job. “Could you pass the map? I want to take another look.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the folded piece of paper, its edges crinkled from him sitting on it.

“Here.” I unfold the paper to a dingy illustration of a boxed building that has labels of its exterior and interior. Layla stops at the front of the booth with two plates and a mug, I swiftly fold the paper back up.

“Here you go, we’ve got one slice of pecan pie and an omelet with coffee.” She sets the plates gently down. With her bent towards me she smells of pine and in satisfaction I pull the scent in before she retreats to grab the coffee pot, her walk has a sweet nature.

“Dean.” Reluctantly my attention is pulled back to my dad’s face which has become sunken and bland, his eyes looking downward at his calloused hands. He looks back up his mouth agape with words at the tip of his tongue.

“What’s up?” Before continuing he waits for Layla who has come back to fill his mug. She walks away giving both of us a patient smile. His dad looks out the window for a moment.

“Dean has Sam contacted you at all? Maybe called?” The question hinders his response, his dad never asks about Sam. Never. This was something that has always gone unspoken between the two he understood that, so he never tried to push anything out of his dad. I lean forward.

“Dad he hasn’t been back in three years and he hasn’t contacted me since that night, I don’t think he’s going to.” His dad sighs heavily and looks back at him.

“Maybe I did wrong by your brother, but as far as I know what he did was wrong. Turning his back on his family… Leaving the life. It was wrong.” After three years his dad has never spoken candidly about what happened.

“Dad it’s not on you.”

“You never leave the life.” Out of habit he strokes the top of his watch, its black leather contrasting against his roughed, tan, skin. “Your mother would’ve known how to drag his ass back home; she always had a way with people. But it’s in the past now.”

“Dad.” He digs into the omelet and doesn’t look back up at me.

“Eat your pie, we’ve got a job to finish.”

* * *

The Impala’s trunk was open, its sub-top unlatched revealing all of his dad’s gear that ranged from holy water, shot guns, machetes, rosaries, even red spray paint for devil traps. I grab the shorter machete from the back and left the bigger one for my dad knowing full well it’s going him who will be doing the heavy lifting, and I trust in that. I wrap the knife holster around the middle part of my thigh and secure it tightly.

“You better take this with you.” His dad hands him one of the Opal handled guns, usually we keep this off to the side considering it’s a gun Sam always used when going on joint hunts with us, it was sort of his thing. I wasn’t sure I should take it.

“Are you sure?”

“It’s just a gun Dean.” That didn’t feel true. “You remember everything I told you about vamps? Are you prepared?”

“I’m prepared.” I see my dad give me a side glance just for safe measure, he always gets unsettled before a hunt, but this time it feels different, he seems rigid and distant almost like he’s waiting for something to get a jump on him. His head is bent low so I can’t make out his facial expression. He closes up the trunk, and quickly tramples towards me.

“Remember I go front you go back; we make this quick. Do you understand?” fear seems to quiver under his voice and a darting look of uneasiness lines under his eyes, this sets off a bit of a red flag.

“Dad, you said we’d be fine. We’ll be fine.”

“Do you understand the plan? You are not to come to the front of the house, no matter what. That’s an order.”

“Yes sir, I understand.” His dad nods fervently and crouches low and begins towards the dilapidated house, I follow in his wake only going the opposite direction. The night is crisp and begins to make its way under my jacket, there’s a feeling of pressure in the air that causes a chill to travel its way up my spine. Something doesn’t feel right. I look over to my left and I don’t see him. I put aside the unease and sprint low on my knees, the house is dark and in ruins, the windows are cracked and the sage green paint that was once alive with color has faded to a muddled greyish-green. I’m leaning on the side of the house, slowly I start to step forward my back against the wall in an attempt to stay concealed. It’s complete silence only my footsteps against the dead leaves dare make a sound. I wonder if he’s made it to the front yet. I’ve reached the edge of the house and lean slowly out against the edge of the wall to have a glimpse of the back porch, I see nothing, the coast is clear. Out of instinct I reach for the machete that lays in waiting within the holster, its weight in my hand brings sudden relief. I step out into the small yard keeping my eyes peeled for sudden movements, but I see nothing; hear nothing. I walk towards the porch, which is old and barely standing, and after each step I take it makes the wood moan in protest, surely one of those blood suckers would’ve heard me by now…. I hear a faint rustle in the grass behind me and I turn to the where the sound came from, but nothing is there. Where are they? Swiftly I reach out for the back-door handle, but in an instant a hands wrap themselves around my throat, and my eyes meet with another in front of me, he’s inches away from my face.

“What have we got here?” He speaks in a vile whisper against my cheek. Enraged I thrash against the grip of the one that has me from behind, but he has a metal grip. A smile creeps slowly over the man’s face contorting his big eyes into something ugly, it makes my blood boil. “We’ve got ourselves a little snack Scotty, isn’t that nice?” The man behind me gives out a chuckle in response he continues to grip my throat even tighter. It’s fine they’re distracted for now. I will myself to think, and I remember the blade that’s open and ready in my right hand. Before thinking I lunge the machete into the leg of the man holding me, he lets out a hoarse scream and releases me. Before he’s able to recover I’ve taken the knife out of his leg and with one clean sweep I’ve cut his head right off. “No!” The vamp that had spoken earlier gears to lunge at me, I sweep out of the way quickly and he lands on his two hind legs. His fangs snap out in defense. Just when I think I’ve gotten the situation handled with these two, the back-door crashes open and three more of them join the fun.

“Dammit” I whisper under my breath. They’ve circled around me and I’m trapped on the porch. “come on who’s next? Anyone else want to join their friend here? I promise I’ll make it quick.” One of the four vamps’ sneers in anger, I turn to meet a look of blazing rage, she looks to be the most affected. “Huh, was this your mate? I mean he seems a little out of your league wouldn’t you say?” She takes an immediate step forward her raven black hair flowing to the back of her head- the whites of her fangs glistening against the night.

“Mia stop it, we can handle this go inside.” The man right beside here, inches forward and gently pushes her back inside. I try my best, but fear is starting to sear in the back of my throat. Where is my dad? A moment passes in total silence, none of the three vampires move an inch the guy that lunged earlier is still standing in the dark yard his feet planted solid into the dead grass, he gives a soft grin knowing he has the upper hand.

“I see you hunters just can’t stay away; this must be fun for you.” He straightens and begins to walk towards me. I stand my ground. “The name’s Theo, care to tell me your name? I mean you came here to kill my nest, didn’t you?” Theo wiggles a finger at me further mocking the situation, but this is good he’s talking which gives me time to think.

“You dingbats really know how to pick your hideouts, nice little place you got here.” Maybe if I stall long enough my dad will show and assist in taking the two at the back of me out, and then I can take care of this rat.

“It’s not much but we make do, you hunter types really push us out of the playing field so houses like these are what’s left, and maybe the occasional four-star cave.” Theo is closing in on me, there’s no way I can make it past three vamps who’ve corned me, I grip my machete even tighter hoping to find an opening.

“Well Theo, I can say that I’m having one of hell of a time you really know how to make people feel welcome.” I give him a smile in irritation hoping that’ll piss him off even more. “I see Scotty isn’t having such a great time though.” Theo looks down at the bottom step of the porch where Scotty’s mangled body lay bloody. I have to make a move soon. Theo’s face flashes a look of anguish he proceeds to bend down at Scotty’s severed head, which is inches away from where I’m standing, I would say this is my best bet at making a break for it. Mine as well go out fighting. In a swift move of my right arm I make a risk at cutting off Theo’s head…. All I remember is two furious eyes strike before everything goes black…. 

Everything is dark, no windows, no lamp, no lit match…. Nothing. My vision is cut and blurry and I’m unable to make a single shape out of whatever sight I have left to spare, panic rises like bile and a low moan escapes my lips. Chains rattle angrily as I try to move my hands, they’re risen above my head and obviously bound, they’ve gone numb. raising my head a little further up, pain travels like a current to my forehead, I’m assuming that’s where they knocked me out. In all this dark I can’t tell if I’m alone and this makes everything worse.

“Get me out of here!” My voice is dry and cracked, the anger comes out as a low whisper. No one comes, I’m still alone. How could this have happened? He said he’d be there and that as long as we were a team everything would be fine. I can’t think about that right now; he knows where I’m at. He’ll come. As minutes pass, at least I think it’s minutes, I start to think about what life was like before me and Sam became a part of this life, before their dad left them for weeks on end and was no longer a person but a shell of a man who needed a distraction, and hunting became exactly that. I was little but I still remember the smile of my mother and the normalcy of what we had at that house in Lawrence, Kansas. In small glimpses it’ll always come back. Footsteps sound loudly above me. “Hey! Get down here you son of a bitch!” The footsteps stop and return a moment later, making their way down what I’m guessing are steps that lead to where they’ve stashed me. The steps are become loud enough to fill the dark room.

“Man, you are just like the last guy he wouldn’t shut up. Screamed for hours.” The guy turns on a gas lamp that’s sitting on a table next to where I’m chained, the light reveals two totally different members of the nest. So there really were more than six of them, good to know I was right all along. “Listen, we’ll get to you in a little bit, just waiting for the rest of the brigade to stumble in so how about you take a short nap.” He swipes the butt of a blade against my head and everything is black again.

“Dean! Dean! Can you hear me?” A familiar voice is slamming into my whole body everything aches and I can’t manage to open my eyes wide enough to see who’s in front of me, I feel the chains that are bounding my wrists to the ceiling start to loosen. I drop to the floor, completely defeated. Whoever is here catches my fall and starts to peel me off the ground into a standing position. Everything is blurry. “Dean you’re going to have to help me.” Pain is the only thing I feel from head to toe; I fight against all of it in an attempt to walk. “That’s it you’ve got it.” I’m guessing I passed out a little after that, the last thing I remember is the man apologizing over and over, his whisper echoing in my ears.

* * *

Wet cloth against my forehead and dry clothes. Warm blankets and profuse apologies aimed at me. That’s all there is. I’m in and out.

* * *

I squint against the morning sunlight that’s seeping its way through the blinds the bed creaks against the weight of my movement and out of pain a low grunt sounds out. The quiet room is deafening, there’s another bed next to me but its empty and hasn’t been slept in. sitting up I see that I’m in a dinky motel room with salmon colored wallpaper, this place is really something. The bathroom is straight in front of my bed I take one small step at a time, I don’t know what those bastards did to me, but it sure took a number. As I get to the mirror eyes that don’t look like my own touch down on me, It’s a complete shock what’s reflecting back, bruises sprinkle my wrist and travel a little way up my arm, my neck and forehead have been bandaged, every movement or shake of the body causes a ripple of pain to take me off balance. This all feels wrong. I begin to explore everything, slowly brushing my hand against the bruises that have a deep, ugly, purple hue against the fluorescent light in the bathroom, then to slowly peeling back the first bandage on the left side of my neck. And what I was so afraid of is now staring straight back at me almost as some sort of vile joke, two bite marks rest deeply into where one of my major veins are located. I feel empty just looking at it. They fed on me; it’s here just sitting on my neck as though it has every right to be there. I let out a shaky breath, I’ve had some bad injuries in the past, but this all feels foreign. A deep sick settles into my stomach, Putting the square bandage back in place I lift up the one on my forehead. What looks to be a questionable stitching job is revealed in the mirror, it seems rushed and shaky. The wound is torn at the edges, its mangled flesh making my eyes drop to the sink, I quickly cover it back up. I lean my back against the counter’s edge. How could this have happened? I mean I just don’t understand where my dad was in all of this. I’m attempting not to believe the worst, maybe he got knocked out by one of them and wasn’t able to get to me, but he would’ve been tied up just the same if that was the case. Somehow there has to be a good explanation.

“Dean?” He staggers up in surprise, his dad stands close to the door frame his eyes are wide and glistening almost afraid to give away something. His dad rushes in and embraces him I don’t even know how to react considering physical affection really isn’t our thing.

“I’m okay.” He lets go and I’m scared to open my mouth again, how am I going to ask him about what happened?

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” He flips a chair swiftly around to take a seat. As I’m starting to inspect his physique, I’m beginning to think he’s had better days, the bags of his eyes overtake the upper half of his face, his hair unkempt, and he’s wearing the same clothes he wore the night of the hunt. “Dad, take a shower you look like crap.” I walk over to the motel’s mini fridge hoping there’s a beer to take my mind off of things. Behind me my dad absentmindedly chuckles, no beer, I close the fridge. A moment or two passes and it feels like it’s now or never. “Dad?” he responds in a low grunt. “What happened last night?”

…….

“Dean you’re alive and the vamps are dead, just focus on that.”

“No. What happened? Did you get knocked out? I mean I was all alone out there.” His dad shifts uncomfortably in the chair, his gaze bent downward.

“Dean…”

“Tell me the truth.” My voice becomes more pressing.

“It was the only way to get the whole nest.” I’m standing firm in total disbelief.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I let the vampires take you.” His dad’s voice lowers to a whisper. Out of every possibility I never wanted to think that my dad was capable of something like this, but at the same time it doesn’t come as a surprise.

“Why would you do that? How could you do that?” I can almost feel the rage boil to the top of my skin, in deeper intrigue I take a step toward him. He lifts his eyes and I see the utter resolution and stoic nature that exposes a truth that I’m just now figuring out. He planned this.

“The nest was all over town, if they were to have a fresh meal it would group them all into one place, and it worked, and I knew it would. They were never going to kill you.”  
“You couldn’t have known that for sure.” My voice begins to rise.

“I did Dean. They took you and there was an opening to get all of them in one fell swoop, I grabbed Sal and we handled the whole lot of them. It worked out in our favor.” How could he say that? I almost understand why he did this in a strategic sense and the injuries don’t even cover the worst part which is the fact that he believes that this is justified. That I’m in disposable.

“Dad, you used me as bait! They took me and chained me. They fed on me.”

“I know and I’m sorry that I didn’t come quick enough, but we got to you in time. You’re safe. It was the only way, Dean!” My body becomes rigid and I’m aghast.

“No dad there could’ve been another way, but you just didn’t want to see it.”

“Dean you know that’s not true.”  
“It is! Ever since mom died and you found her old hunting life, you’ve dragged not only me but Sam onto Hell’s road!” His face shuts down and eyes glaze over in the familiar look of emptiness whenever Sam and I bring mom up.

“Dean, you’re not thinking straight.”

“Oh, but I am dad. I’m starting to see why Sam left in the first place, hell, after last night I’m beginning to think about leaving too.” The air becomes dense, a ringing starts to sound in my ears, his dad is just staring; we’re both just staring. Those words can never be taken back, what I just said sealed a door that will never be reopened. His dad breaks the deafening silence.

“You want to leave, don’t you? Just like your brother.” His voice cracks at the weight that the sentence holds, his face distorting itself into a look of desolation.

“Dad I can’t do this with you. Not after last night… I’m done.”

“You can’t leave, not like. I know what I did may have been wrong, but the hunt was successful and you’re fine.”

“See, that’s the problem right there, the fact that all you can think about is the hunt! Dad you used me. I’ve been by your side since day one and I took care of Sam when all you had on your head was the hunt, this isn’t working anymore. Sam had the idea a head of time to leave and maybe he was right to get away.” Everything hits me like a ton of bricks, the true crush of what’s happening begins to make me light headed. My dad still remains sitting in a trance when I collect my shoes and begin making my way to the door, its metal handle cool against my tingling fingers. The bright sun meets skin in a kind greeting but begins to become overcast at a second’s notice. The Impala is parked towards the middle part of the lot, its black sheen glistening against the blue sky. That Impala was the closest thing to a home that me and Sam ever had, now I’m leaving it just like he did. It’s true irony. I remember my packed duffel in the back seat, it almost seems too convenient, like maybe this was going to happen all along. The door creaks against its hinges I stretch for my brown bag and grasp its fabric straps, and duck back out, slamming the door.

“Dean!” Reluctantly I turn to see my dad racing toward me, probably hoping I won’t bolt for the hills. “Take this.” It’s his leather watch. The same leather watch that has seen more life than any other person that walks the Earth, the last object that his mom touched with loving purpose, the one thing his dad holds close in hopes that it could one day lead him back to their mom. He’s giving it to me, in the future I’ll feel that this was an olive branch of sorts but right now it holds the weight of the world. I shakily take the watch, its metal underside almost burning itself into the palm of my hand. His dad walks away first. Never once looking back. There I am left open to the world around me and I’ve never felt more isolated but free at the same time. It’s over.


	2. Take Care

Fall is at its prime, trees with leaves that are interchanging from red to brown, and the air breathing its last breath before the winter takes hold. I’m walking against the side of the road and my footsteps echo against the trees, slowly coming to the realization that I don’t have a plan; I’m walking aimlessly. The diner and that woman Layla come to mind; I’m thinking that’s my best bet.

* * *

The diner has a triangular top with stringed lights sprinkling its front, the glass doors glistening high from the risen sun. The name ‘Knox Diner’ lay on a wooden board that’s meticulously placed above the doors, I open the door and a jingling bell announces my arrival. The place is dead quiet with only the sound of light conversation between two older men, that sit on brown-cushioned barstools, and the whirring coffee machine. I take a seat in one of the booths in the way back, hoping to shovel myself into some sort of safe hole, the cushion is sunken and comfortable which helps to relieve the ache in my body. The diner is spacious with large windows, its walls are a faded cream color which bounces nicely against the, white tiled, flooring. The sunlight streams into every crevice and illuminates the stained-glass light fixtures, that pool its colors onto the ceiling. Footsteps bring me out of my stupor, and I see Layla carrying a glass coffee pot to fill the mug that belongs to one of the older men, her smile carries a look of safety. Our eyes meet and a glance of familiarity crosses her face, she heads towards me. “Hey there. What brings you back?” She gives me her undivided attention. “I couldn’t stay away from that pecan pie.” I give her a light smile. “I’m glad you like it; I’ve been baking it for quite some time. It’s a little bit like my own secret weapon.” A strand of blonde hair falls towards her brown eyes and she sweeps it back. “My names Dean.” I raise my hand out which she takes. Her fingers sing against my skin and my smile widens. “Layla.” We let go and I look down at the table. “I don’t mean to pry but someone really took a beating on you, those bruises look pretty bad.” A low chuckle escapes my lips and I’m reminded of everything, a swollen feeling fills my stomach and the air becomes stale. “I’ve had worse, its nothing to worry about.” I give her a look of reassurance in hopes that what I’m feeling right now doesn’t cue any more suspicion. A light nod from her says that she understands but knows that there’s probably more than I’m letting on. “I’ll grab you a slice of that pie, it’s on the house.” I give a look of gratitude and she fills my mug about halfway before walking away. Even the few moments that I’m alone I fight the urge to think of the encounter between my dad and I, but everything feels out of place, the world that I had raged to maintain has become a distant life. I’ve been with him since the beginning never have I been alone, he was always there to give direction and to guide when there was nothing. Even now I feel that this is was my fault, that maybe I should’ve understood why he did what he did, but even that doesn’t feel right. The only thing I’ve ever known is hunting, it’s my identity, It’s the identity that I lived with under the shadow of my dad. That’s the difference between me and my brother, he understood that there was an out. That he wasn’t crafted for this kind of life like I was, for me it’s all there’s ever been and there was no out in my case. “Here you go, one slice of pecan pie.” Layla sets the plate in front of me and smiles before leaving. I look down for a moment, I have nowhere to go. Finding a place is probably the first step. I remember packing up a map, so I pull it out and unfold it in front of me, using the extra mug across the table as a paper weight. Its bold letters, colorful straying lines, and disconcerting route numbers make it challenging to set my eyes onto one area of the map. I’m thinking Indiana would be good, it’s the next state over and there’s always a case or two, staying there wouldn’t be the worst idea. All I can think to do is head back into work and figure the rest out as I go, maybe I’ll team up with other hunters if I run into them along the way. Of course, there’s the issue of not having a car which I’ll have to figure that out soon, but buses and trains should be good enough. My wallet is in my back pocket that contains some stolen credit cards and a couple hundred in cash, as long as I stick to a rigorous plan and cheap motels off route I should manage okay. Out of the corner of my eye I spot California in bold letters that seem to jump off the page and crawl up to my skin, its surrounding cities becoming a border of isolation. That’s where Sam is attending that college that he was so fond of, he’s in pre-law. Probably living a pretty life in a nice little place. Just for a moment I think that going to see him sounds like a promising idea but the more I think about the severity of the situation it becomes impossible, he’s never once contacted Dad let alone me. Not even a phone call or a voicemail, it’s like he played the ultimate ghosting card and hightailed it out of dodge. If I came to him after three years with nowhere to go and having left dad, it would just rock his boat and would end up causing even more of a tear in our already mangled relationship. Although at the moment he’s all I’ve got. The sentiment causes my face to contort and the thought of Sam and who we used to be makes my stomach boil over. He left. He left me all alone, he left his family. All to get a law degree and forget where he truly came from, Sam stomped on his origins and left me to pick up the rest, there’s no way I could go to Palo Alto and ask for his help, let alone drag him back into hunting. It’s just me and that’s alright for now. It feels like a little over an hour that I sit and take small bites out of the pie and sip at my coffee absentmindedly, the sky outside has turned a dark grey, and the main source of light comes from the ceiling lamps. I continue on and become completely absorbed and soon everything is quiet and almost placid. “Dean?” I’m shook out of concentration and find Layla standing close to me her face openly concerned. “Are you doing alright? I don’t want to bother you, but you look to be in a rough spot.” She’s almost too observant but her expression is one of understanding, and it doesn’t feel like an attempt to invade my privacy, she seems to have a natural talent at making people feel tranquil. “It’s okay, just a little concentrated I guess.” My smile feels heavy and barely reaches to my eyes. “Are you sure?” I chuckle and look back down at my map where I’ve circled parts of Indiana and the whole of California. “Yes.” Layla sets her coffee pot down and clambers onto the booth opposite of me, her thin gold bracelet clanking against the hard top. She looks to me with care, her brown eyes only focusing on mine. “Dean, it’s okay. You know there was this one day that I still remember from a couple years ago, even now it’s still fresh, everything was sort of crumbling around me and every person just whirred by, nothing was in focus. I had no one at the time and its funny because I was sitting in a little diner just like this one, sipping my coffee, and this woman from across the way took the time to notice me. I was a complete stranger, but she seized that moment to see clearly and her actions changed my life. Now I’m noticing you.” Her words sink in deep and I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like her, she sits quietly and fills my coffee back up. “Well…” I cough and shift to look at her better. I’m a little stuck here, I don’t know if I should say anything, but in the back of my head it feels right. I should talk, maybe not the whole truth but some truth, just enough to get by. Sometimes giving yourself over to someone weather big or small can hurt, it can feel like that part of who you are is no longer just yours but there’s too. “Have you ever felt that the person you thought you knew was longer the person that they were? What they say, what they do, it’s something that just doesn’t makes sense. It’s no longer them, but you want it to work so badly that you’ll sacrifice things you never knew you had to until it’s over, until that person is someone you don’t recognize.” She’s gently grazing over her gold bracelet and looking out the window with a tentative stare. A second passes before she’s with me again. “Sometimes people become who they didn’t want to be, but it’s who they’re meant to be, and that’s not on you.” I take a drink from my coffee while contemplating what she said. “The question is, do you have someone that you recognize? Someone you can see clear as day?” “I’d like to think so, but he’s gone. Everything is different.” She nods in understanding. “Is this person important?” “He’s my brother.” “From what I’ve learned it’s crucial to chase what you know and as long as you do that, you’ll always find what you’re looking for.” She touches my hand from across the table and gives me a wide smile, my whole body is warm and in tune with her. Before I can even get a word out, she takes her coffee pot and saunters off to the back of the diner. I’m left with her words invading every corner of my head, their impact clearing a path for a conclusive decision to be made. I circle California again and pack my things into my duffel. Before leaving, I go to Layla and stand at a distance, she has her back turned as she’s filling salt shakers. “Layla?” She turns towards me and sweeps a loose hair from the front of her face. Without thinking I wrap my arms firm around her and tuck my head down the crevice of her neck, I feel her warm hands land onto my shoulder blades. “Thanks.” I’m the first to let go, her arms are loose at her sides before she lightly grazes my cheek in affection. Her eyes are alive and pondering. “Take care of yourself Dean.” For the first time today, I feel like I can breathe. I leave the diner and am met with a light wind and silence. It’s time to go.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


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